


We build you till nothing remains

by PacketofRedApples



Category: Control (Video Game)
Genre: Drabble, Gen, Implication of one-sided Trench/Darling, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Mentions of Death, Paranatural Entities, The House is a presence and it makes itself known, The Oldest House
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-19
Updated: 2019-11-19
Packaged: 2021-02-13 10:08:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21492568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PacketofRedApples/pseuds/PacketofRedApples
Summary: Zachariah Trench's relationship with The Oldest House.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 30





	We build you till nothing remains

**Author's Note:**

> I feel strongly about Trench and that's obvious. So I'm not certain what this is, but I feel it's okay to share.

From the first step Zachariah takes inside the Oldest House, and he means, from the first real steps he takes actually inside and not the entrance, the house swallows him whole. He becomes too curious, too invested and much too easily for his liking. It wasn’t like he came in for a job interview, no, he already had the job and he was going to do it properly no matter what (leave it up to good or poor upbringing, whichever way you wish to look at it). Post military figuring on getting a job, he anticipated something else, but somehow managed to end up here… What he didn’t anticipate was to be eaten with jagged crooked teeth instantly as he arrived.

He was hooked.

Trench couldn’t help it, the air hung heavily in the building, and employees moved meaninglessly, the structure stood prouder than anything he’s seen before. And the lights flickered as if blinking in some rooms. It was like it was alive… and soon enough, he learned it actually was.

The Oldest House kept its eyes on him every step of the way, but the rookie agent couldn’t manage to mind then. If anything, it made his heart beat faster with excitement, fear becoming absent.

Sufficient to say, he knew from day one, he’ll enjoy working here... or maybe it was decided for him. Years down the line, that feeling went away, as he grew old and tired, he would start to wonder about it. But that day Kate didn’t ask when he returned. They had a newborn baby to care for… He knew he didn’t want to bring it up, speculated that he would ramble for hours if he only just slightly turned the lid of it. 

Every day of work there, he constantly couldn’t shake the House’s presence. He knew it wasn’t ordinary, but he couldn’t get used to it either for the longest time. Soon enough, months down the line the comparison would dawn on him. It always felt like something was following him around, like an inquisitive small child, watching the ants in the yard, contemplating burning them. Trench couldn’t stop with the comparison, once it entered his brain. The House was a living organism, surely, but its age was up for anyone’s guessing. 

Perhaps in the grand scale, it wasn’t so old anyway? But words were just letters with attached meanings, you can’t blame him for disregarding it. He knew he had to keep it happy, less he wanted to be scorched.

No mirrors in the bathrooms eventually become normal; the plants nobody cares for thriving do, too. Everything grows to become all right. Trench becomes accustomed… but… It doesn’t stop. The invasive omnipresence hangs onto him, not just clinging. It allows itself to drench into his skin, seep through his blood, and fall asleep in his soul.

When his daughter dies, and Kate leaves him, Zachariah realizes. The house is all he has. As expectantly as Dr. Darling’s eyes look at him, there’s nothing he can offer to him because the house has taken all. It took over him. Claimed him.

Zachariah Trench found it everything else too trivial, even as he stayed in his apartment, only weeks after the divorce, thinking of putting a bullet through his skull, Trench knows there’s a leech feeding off of him, dragging him forcefully away from doing so.

And every morning he entered, exhausted, every evening he left drained to the last drop.

The Service Weapon was something of an opportunity. An exit… but his body must have moved on animalistic instinct, protecting him, proving himself. The Board agrees to bestow or chooses him, despite the death wish the man carried. However, what was Zachariah if not responsible.

As he stood, newly appointed Director, freshly affected—Trench realized the spell of infatuation starts to fade. Deeper and deeper settles the understanding of it all without understanding any of it.

Trench knows he has to choose somebody better, to replace him. Somebody who wouldn’t fall for it like a Siren’s song. The nonexistent sweet promises of comprehending sounded too enduring and desired he missed the giant sign spelling out that this was a lie. Pathetically fell down a rabbit hole he couldn’t climb out of. There was no waking up to realize this was a bad fever dream, this all, unfortunately, was the sad sob story he lived through. Disgusted at himself, Trench acts on his promise to find a suitable replacement. And he does what is needed… until he doesn’t.

Until his pride leads him elsewhere, drags him underwater and traps him far away from help. Until he’s doing more harm than good…

But at the end of the day, he’s just another dead man on the floor, having blown his brains out—then again, that’s hazy. Perhaps the mist in his brain was too intense…

His echo will guide the new Director, and that’s as far as he will remain within the walls of this house, like smoke soaked into the concrete…


End file.
